Sly Cooper: Interfernce of the IDIOTs
by Fredrickson435
Summary: 6 months after Le Paradox's defeat, an attempt on Inspector Fox's life is made. In Ancient Egypt, Sly is being watched by a masked individual. What does both of these event have in common with a hotel owner, a large crystal, and the Evil Overlord List? Read and find out. Rated T for now, rating will be increased as the violence gets worse.
1. Prolouge: Parisian Shootout

**Disclaimer: All rights to the characters of the Sly Cooper franchise belong only to Sucker Punch Productions and Sanzaru Games. Rights to any other fictional settings, characters, and items that may be mentioned in this chapter belong to their respective owners. Paris is the property of France and the large Tetrahedrons and pillars located in an arid, sandy environment belong to an African country starting with E.**

**OC's will be used heavily, so if you do not enjoy OC's either get over it or don't read the story. **

* * *

**Paris, Six months after the event of Sly 4: Thieves in Time, 7:30 p.m. local time**

It is a beautiful autumn evening in Paris. The air is crisp, the sun slowly setting over the skyline, and the moon is waxing. It is the perfect time for being out and about with your loved ones.

"Yet here I am in the middle of a shootout with arm dealers!" thinks Inspector Carmelita M. Fox. "Then again, it's not like I have anyone waiting for me at home tonight. Not since Ringtail disappeared."

The whiz of bullets flying through the air brings her back to the situation at hand. What should have been a simple patrol of the industrial sector of Paris has evolved into an all-out-war between Paris' branch of Interpol and a very large band of well-armed arm dealers. Hell, even the local Gendarmerie nationale units, France's military police, had been called in to help. The dealers had fortified themselves in an abandoned factory, and were making use of their illegal stock of weaponry and the multiple levels of the factory to inflict causalities amongst the enforcers of the law that were not quick enough to find cover either in the apartments or cars that line the streets by the factory. The bodies of multiple officers and lower peons of the criminal gang are physical evidence to violence that continues to rage into the night.

Poking her head over the hood of a car being used a shield; Carmelita took aim at one of the shadowy figures hiding among the upper level windows and popped a shot off with her shock pistol. The blast impacted window sill, forcing the criminal to fall back into cover while blindly firing in the direction the blast came from.

"Damnit," hissed Carmelita, being forced to duck down again. Gazing at the buildings to her left for a moment, Carmelita turned to the officer sitting right beside her. "Lieutenant Grierson, any chance of getting some of our men onto the rooftops next to the factory and lay down some suppressing fire?"

Lieutenant Grierson, a middle-aged goat of Norwegian descent, turned to look at the buildings she was gesturing to. "It might be possible. Those apartments have been condemned and sealed off for the last few months, something about strucutral problems. The fire escape is supposedly intact, but roof access was said to have been locked during the inspection and condemning. If we could get someone up there and open the roof access, then once the sun sets and only the street lights are on, I could get some troops over there. " The goat turned back to look through the busted window at the factory, where the firing has stopped due to lack of visible targets. The outline of multiple gun-totting baddies were barely visible themselves, but the criminals were still present. "The question is, do we have someone ballsy enough to risk getting turned into swiss cheese while trying to climb up to the roof?"

Carmelita turned the question over in her mind for a few seconds, looking between the apartments, the factory, and the open ground between the two before turning back to Lieutenant Greirson. "Sir if I may..."

* * *

**On the rooftops above the shootout...**

"Ok, where is the target, where is the target?" grated a black-furred bat scanning the battefield. As the street lamps start come on, the bat catches a glimpse of redish-orange fur and pulls out a pair of binocculors before turning his head to focus on a pair of bullet-ridden cars in the middle of the street. "Na bitte!" exhaled the German spotter. Glancing over to his partner, a brown-haired weasel dressed in a black sweater, dark jeans, armed with a high-powered rifle and appearently taking a short nap despite all the gun-fire.

"HEY! wake up you für nichts gut bum!" the bat growled while delivering a kick to the weasel's stomach.

"Ouch! What are you doing," gasps the weasel sniper.

"I found the blue-haired fox, you Schussel. And if we don't hurry up, one of the other teams will get the bonus for taking her out!"

"What! Where is she, where is our meal ticket?" the weasel stammers out while quickly setting up his rifle.

"Look towards those two cars on our right."

"The blue mini-coop and the chevy?"

"No! The two downed police cruisers near the front of the factory. About two hundred feet in front of us and fifteen to the right."

"Oh... yep I see her. Seems to be arguing with some goat. Want me to take him out as well?"

*sighs* "No. Just take out the fox then we can leave and let the rest of the gruppe to their fate."

"Fine," grumbles the weasel, focusing his attention on the target. The roof the two would be assassins were on about a story higher than the factory across the street, and place in a way that made shooting a challenge. After shifting further to the left, the weasel was finaly able to get a clear shot. "Goodnight bitch..." snickers the weasel as his finger depresses the trigger.

_***CLANG**BOOM***_

A red handled monkey wrench swings into the barrel just as the weapon goes off.

* * *

"... yes I am confident that I can reach the roof without getting hit. If I was able to keep up with Cooper over the years, I'm pretty sure I can make that climb with minimal problems." argues Carmelita. She has spent the last five minutes trying to convince the old goat to let her attempt the journey up to the roofs.

"I don't doubt your abilities Inspector Fox, but that doesn't me... _AHHH!_" The bullet goes flying right past Carmelita's ear and slams into Grierson's shoulder, blowing off the top part of it in a shower of flesh, blood, and bone bits.

"OFFICER DOWN!" roars Carmelita as the gun fire from both Interpol/Gendarmerie units and the criminals pick-up. Grabing the lieutenant by the waist, Inspect Fox drags the wound man from behind the false safety of the cars to a group of officers and paramedics hiding in a side alley further down the road.

"_That bullet came from behind me._" Turning her head around, after dropping off the wounded lieutenant, she examines all the buildings that were in the direction of where the bullet came from. Catching the shilloute of a figure on one of the roof tops, an answer flys straight into her mind. _"Snipers!"_

* * *

A figure stands over the unconcious bodies of a bat and weasel, bloodied wrench in hand, and watches the disaster before him.

"Why did this hafe to haf'en on my watch?"

* * *

**AN: So here is the openning scene to what I hope will be decent story.**

**I know there isn't a lot of plot right now, but I actually intended to make this chapter much, MUCH, longer. But before I put in the effort, I might as well test the waters.**

**Oh, and if any of you could direct me to an active beta reader, I would appreciate it very much. I tend to have problems with detailed scenes and doing proper characterization.**

**"Na bitte"= "There you are!"**

**"für nichts gut bum"= "Good for nothing bum"**

**"Schussel"= "dolt"**


	2. The Wolf, the Deal, and the Truck

**Disclaimer: All rights to the characters of the Sly Cooper franchise belong only to Sucker Punch Productions and Sanzaru Games. Rights to any other fictional settings, characters, and items mentioned in this chapter belong to their respective owners. Paris is the property of France and the large Tetrahedrons and pillars located in an arid, sandy environment belong to an African country starting with E.**

**OC's will be heavily used , so if you do not enjoy OC's either get over it or don't read the story. **

**Note: One of the characters has an accent that is painful to read. **

* * *

**Paris, 9:00 pm local time**

Standing on the rooftop of an apartment complex, with two unconscious bodies to the side, a 5' 9" gray-furred wolf looked down at the bloody scene of the ongoing shootout.

"Why did this hafe to haf'en on my watch?" the backwoods drawl, made worse by the absence of a lower lip, hid the irritation this person was feeling. Dressed in a disheveled, white button-down shirt, dirt-stained black slacks with suspender straps, scuffed up dress shoes, and a bloodied monkey wrench now hanging from a belt loop, the wolf appeared to have left from a formal event to join in on the destruction. Turning search the bodies of the would-be assassins, he starts muttering to himself. "I had ta lose the phoker game. I jus' had ta lose the phoker game." He starts ripping of the ammo belt around the weasel's waist.

"Tonight was suphosed to 'e sphecial. Dinner with the girls, the shootin' range with the 'oys, some phranks on the 'oss, a good ol' fashion _Frii_day night." Finished checking over the weasel (finding 35 euros, a half-melted Twix, and a packet of gum), the wolf started searching the bat. " 'UT NO! The hit haf'ens tonight, and I'm called to safe some coph's life!"

Only finding a pair binoculars, the wolf delivers a quick kick to the bat's stomach in frustration. "_Five teams of snipers, and none of them have any written orders, notes, or even a bleedin' picture of their target."_ thinks the wolf as he picks up the fallen rifle and ammo._ "Not sure if this means the snipers are amateurs or that the people who ordered this hit do not want to be traced." _Glancing at the rifle in his hand, he notices that it is a bolt-action rifle, military grade bolt-action rifle. "_If these punks are actually able to afford military grade weaponry, then must be competent. Guess I have to keep one of them alive to get the information." _

Turning back to the shootout below, the wolf nearly drops the rifle in shock. Way down below him, Inspector Carmelita Fox was dashing down the street, exposing herself to the gunfire coming from the factory.

"Is that girlie tryin' to git herself killed?" With limited options to keep the crazy fox safe, the wolf gets down in a firing position, and begins taking pot-shots as fast as the rifle would allow.

Now unknown to our mysterious wolf, what he hold in his hand is a Finnish Sako TRG-22 Sniper Rifle. This bad boy is the premier sniper rifle used by European police and counter-terrorism units. Using .308 Winchester rounds in a ten round magazine, the Finns made this baby to ruin any criminal's day. Unfortunately, the apartment complex is just in the wrong place for optimal cover fire.

Still that doesn't mean no one was hit.

* * *

**Inside the factory, Large Distrubition Room**

"There's the target!" screams out a rat, firing a quick stream of bullets at the rapidly disappearing cop. "She's heading down Rue de l'Evangile."

"Levels 3 and 4, shift your fire to cover the entire road. I want at least thirty of you on the right side of this room. Our contractors want that fox dead, and God help you all if you fail." orders a mastiff. As the thugs carry out the orders, the mastiff turns to a grease-covered weasel "Is our ticket out of here ready yet Fixer?"

"My boys are installing the last touches, Sir," the mechanic replied nervously. First time in a firefight tends to make people nervous. "We don't want it stalling when we make our big exit."

"It better not!" growled Sir. "The money being offered by our employers will only be collected by the survivors and I tend to..."

***_SPLATTER* _**

Oh dear, it seems that one of the gunners on the fourth level cat-walks took a bullet to the brain. Look at the bits gray matter fly through the air. See the blood drops sparkle in the artificial lights. Hear the skull fragments hit the metal floor of the cat-walk. Smell the...

***_THUD!*_**"_ARRGG!_" _***TWANG***_

"SOMEONE IS TARGETING _US_!" shrieks a bat cowering under the sill of a 4th floor window.

***_THUD!*_**_ "MY ARM!"_

Another shot finds its mark, punching through the right arm of a bloodhound on the third floor. A few seconds later another bullet goes flying through one of the third level windows, the occupant taking cover behind an I beam a few seconds earlier. Soon more bullets, small caliber rifle and pistol rounds from the guns of the cops, and shock blasts start pouring in from below, while another bullet comes crashing in from a higher angle.

"Get back to those windows you fools. You aren't getting paid to hide in fear!" Sir snarled at the men on the upper cat-walks.

"And we won't get paid if we are dead," a random thug yelled back. "Besides the target is no longer in sight."

"Damn it," curses Sir. Turing back to the mechanic, he lifts the poor weasel up off the floor by his shirt. "Get your boys to finish up in the next five minutes. For every minute we wait after the time limit expires, you will lose a finger. GOT IT?!" The weasel nodded his head in understanding and was let go. Sir turned to address the remaing thugs. "We'll hunt the target on the streets once we escape from here. The man that blows her brains out gets an added bonus."

The thugs in the room started brighting up at the thought of the money being offered for this job, and started cheering.

**_*WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP!*_**

"Helicopters! The stupid cops finally brought in helicopters!" screams a bat looking out a second floor window.

"Heh," scoffs Sir. "They obivously don't who they are dealing with. Time to break out the heavy artillery!" As the thugs start scrambling to pull out heavier weaponry from the cases scattered around the room, the mastiff turned and whispered to a bat next to him. "Tony, I want you to lead the men here on the next attack. I'm going to check out the package our employers sent us for when things went south. When I come back I want all the helicopters to be flaming wreckage on the ground. You understand me?"

"I understand you boss."

"Good. Oh, and while you do that, kill the thug that dared to talk back to me." With that, the mastiff turned once more and started walking deeper into the factory.

* * *

**Back oustide, on an apartment rooftop**

"Now where did that girlie go?" mutters the wolf, searching the streets for the blue-haired fox. "I take my eye off her for one sec, and she uphs and disaphears. I swear, this jo' is more phainful than ..."

"HANDS IN THE AIR CROOK!"

The wolf drops the rifle in his hands as a latino voice began shouting at him from behind. Slowly rasing his hands in the air, he could not help himself from commenting. "Damn, girlie. I didn't hear you clim' uph. You must 'e phart theif or sumthin'."

"Quiet criminal. I don't enjoy being shot at, and I certainly do not like being called 'girlie' or a theif. Now turn around to face me before I decide to stun you here and now."

Deciding that compliance would be the easier way to get his job done, the wolf turned towards the cop.

"Awww, is that any way to greet the pherson that saved your phretty, little head from a 'ullet." the wolf mockingly whined to the fox while he inspected the inspector in front of him. "I can see why that raccoon likes you. Sneaky moves, plenty of stamina, nice 'ody..." at this the fox grips her shcok pistol tighter, pointing it at he wolf's head "... and a fiery phersonality. Though I do hofe you realize that I am not the guy that shot at you Inspector Carmelita Fox. That honor belongs to the weasel lying next to me."

Shifting her eyes slightly, she sees the two unconcious bodies next to the wolf. "That might be true, but you were the one holding the rifle when I climbed up here Mr..."

"McGee. _Bobby _G. McGee," the wolf replies, using the teeth of his lower jaw to make the B sound. "It's only fair for you to know my name since I know yours. And I was holdin' that rifle to give you cofer fire. I don't know who trains you cophs, 'ut I seen unruly civilians use 'etter tactics than your 'and of law enforcers. No snipher units, no tactical assult teams, not even a single friggin' helio."

A flood light from above shines down on the duo as one of Interpol's many helicopters arrived on the scene. Bobby's ears drop a little while he mutters under his breath.

"You were saying?" smirks Carmelita, but that smirk turns sour as she got a good look at the wolf. She barely noticed he was dressed in formal, focusing more on the train wreck that was Bobby's face. His entire lower lip and much of the skin around the base of his muzzle was gone, replaced by thick scar tissue, undoubtly the cause for his strange accent. He was missing the left nostril to his nose and his eyes gleamed with a slight twinge of insanity. Her attention was diverted to a flash of silver coming from his pants, where she saw the bloodied monkey wrench hanging off from one-side and a Colt revolver with a drum like ammo feeder attatched to it instead of the normal six shot.

"Like what you see, Inspector?" Bobby as he decided to move a couple steps away from the edge of the roof, while the fox was still stunned by his appearence. "This is result of me phissin' off my girlfriends. Oh they are the sweetest girlies you'd efer meet, 'ut quite dangerous when angry."

"Shut up and stand still criminal," barked Carmelita, having gotten over the shock of his appearence. "I might not be able to arrest you for taking a shot an officer of the law, but I can definitely arrest you for carrying a weapon in public sight and being in possession of an illegal weapon."

"Oh c'mon," sighs Bobby, "I have a liscence to carry weapons openly and this pistol is regi..."

***_KABOOM!*_**

An explosion shakes the rooftop as one of the helicopters that arrived on scene come crashing down in flames. The wreck plunges into a town house creating a secondary explosion.

Knocked onto her butt by the explosion, starts at the sight of the downed vehicle. "How did tha.."

***_KABOOM!* *KABOOM!*_**

Two more helicopters go up in flames as the rest of the air support starts pulling back. Bobby, having also been knocked back onto his ass, sees a football shaped object from the factory being pointed in his direction.

"EXPHLOSIVES INCOMING!" Bobby rises to his feet as small puff of smoke is seen coming from the factory. Grabing the fallen Carmelita by the waist, he throws her onto his shoulder before jumping towards the next rooftop. As the two landed, the helicopter that was hovering near them exploded in a fireball before crashing down onto the the previously occupied rooftop, killing the two unconcious assassins that were left there.

" 'loody hell," curses Bobby, "I wanted those two alive for answers. My 'oss ain't gonna 'e haph'ay with no info."

"THOSE NO GOOD, MALIMISO... "Carmelita starts swearing at the wanted destruction and deaths of her fellow law enforcers. Remembering that she is still on his shoulder, Bobby lowers her onto the roof as her tirade continues.

"HEY! Do ya kiss your mother with that mouth," he snaps after a particularly vile phrase makes him blush. "I know your angry ..."

*The beginning phrases of the Waltz of the Flowers*

"Where's that music coming from?"asks Carmelita, the music stopping her rant.

"Oh... sorry, its my phone." Bobby pulls out a flip phone from shirt pocket. "Eh... it's my 'oss. Give me a sec."

Flipping open the phone, "Hello?"

"..."

"Jus' survived an explosion. How are you?"

"..."

"Yeph, they're shootin' exphlosive o'jects at the helios."

"..."

"Yeah, yeah, Miss Fox is fine. She's standing right next to me with a scowl on her face."

"...!"

"Well she sort of snuck uph on me."

"..."

"No, this 'ody can't phroduce enough to make them work. Why'd you think I took some hyphos with me."

"..."

"Without the hyphos, no. And even with the hyphos, my 'ody..."

"..."

Yeah, I understand, that's why I'm askin' phremission."

"..."

"Thank 'oss. Oh, and I'm gonna hafe to caphture one of the 'addies. Do you hafe a prefrence?"

"..."

"Fine. Say hello to your wife for me, and tell my girls I'll 'e runnin' late tonight."

Hanging up the phone,, Bobby turns back around to find the muzzle of a shock pistol right in his face. "You have thirty seconds to convince me not to stun you" growls Carmelita.

Bobby raises an eyebrow at this treatment before answering. "My 'oss can help you and the Copher gang git Sly 'ack to this time pheriod. Is that reason enough?"

"No, but you have peaked my interest." Carmelita's poker face is on, but inside her mind "_HE KNOWS WHERE SLY IS! HE CAN GET SLY BACK HERE!"_ Keeping her voice Carmelita continues talking to scarred wolf. "You have gained two minutes. Now start talking."

"Ya know, that hand cannon you're phointin' at me ain't gonna slow me down," says Bobby.

"Minute forty."

"Alright, alright. My 'oss has some friends who need the typhe of helph only a master thief can gife. Nothin' too criminal mind ya, jus' some items stolen from their rightful owners who want them 'ack."

"And why didn't his friends contact their local law enforcement or Interpol?"

" 'ecause the items in question that were stolen, don't technically exsist. I mean they do exsist, 'ut the phu'lic don't know a'out them. 'esides, the pheophle that stole the items are that hafe ordered a hit on you... and Sly Copher."

"WHAT!"

"Yeph, they see the two of you as threats. This whole shoot out, jus' distraction while they attempht to kill you. As for the raccoon... these pheophle hafe ways to reach their targets. So, hears the deal my 'oss is offerin'. I helph you 'ring in the leader of this gang alive, you meet with my 'oss, and you git your raccoon 'ack."

"Meet with your... boss?"

"Yeph, jus' a chat and the deal is done. Do ya accepht?"

Carmelita stares at the wolf, as if she is contemplating if he is lying or not. Finally she lowers her shock pistol. "Fine. But are you sure your boss can help the Copper gang and I to find Sly."

"Heh, I'fe only know the 'oss for a couple of years, 'ut that's long enough to know he already has a man on the jo' right now."

* * *

**Meanwhile in Ancient Egypt**

*******_Achoo!*_**

"Damnit, I thought you said you cleaned all the anime shit out of my system?!"

"Sorry, must've missed a spot."

"Nevermind. Just keep looking for that raccoon."

* * *

**Back in Modern Day Paris**

The fox and the wolf look across to the factory on the otherside of the street. The street has gone eerily silent, with only the sound of burning wreckage being heard. The police officers, having watched their air support get blown out of the sky, decided that it was time to for a tactical retreat to set up a perimeter.

"There goes our chances of getting into that factory." Carmelita frowns as she watches the last of the Interpool/Gendarmerie forces leave the scene at a dead run. "Unless you have a way to magically move us in there without the guards noticing?"

"It may jus' come to that actually," comments Bobby, ignoring the startled glance the fox gives him as he continuosly scans up and down the street looking for wires, trees, overly tall street lamps, anything that might remotely be used to get across the street without being seen. "Damn. I'm surphrised that there aren't any negotiable phaths amongst the rooftophs. With all the thefts and rooftoph escapes that Coopher pulled off in this city, I thought there would be more out crophing here that we could use."

Sighing, Bobby turns to address Carmelita. "Well, there i..."

The rest of Bobby's sentance is lost amongst the rumbling noise that echoes forth from the factory. Both heads turning back two the factory, the anthromorphic canines watch as the wall bursts outwards. Pushing through the rubble and dust, an armor plated truck-cab makes its way out of the factory. Attatched to the back of the cab is a 20' by 6' trailer covered in three inches of steel plating, with firing slits roughly cut into the sides, and what appears to be machine-gun nests placed on the roof of the trailer.

Manned machine-gun nests.

Manned machine-gun nests with bad guys actually looking up for once.

Not wasting time yelling out needless directions, Bobby grabs Carmelita and yanks her away from the roof's edge as the bullets start flying in their direction. The two of them scramble across the rooftops, trying to find a way down that does not lead to the same street thatt contains the arms dealers' war wagon. Carmelita is the first to spot a fire escape that leads to a small alley.

* * *

**Paris, ?**

"Bentley, are you sure this is a smart idea," Murray asks, voice filled with concern as he drives the Cooper van down the back alleys and side road of Paris. He had recently won a title match earlier that week, and was visiting his childhood friend to celebrate the victory when news of the shoot-out appeared on T.V.

"Smart? No. But Sly would have our heads if we didn't try to help Inspector Fox during this type of crisis," the nasally voice of Bentley answers from the back of the van. When Carmelita's name appeared on the news story as one of the initial law enforcers on the scene, the two remaining members of the original Cooper gang had loaded up their van with whatever gear that lay around and hurried off to help out their newest friend/ally.

While taking stock of the gear that they brought with, Bentley notices the sound of gunfire slowly getting louder. "Murray, try to find a side street we can hide in. I don't want us to be driving into the middle of the shoot-out unless it's absolutely necessary."

Spotting an abandoned looking alley behind a set of apartments, Murray heads for it, eyes filled with concern as he notices flames coming from the other buildings. As the van turns down the road, a figure jumps down in front of the vehicle.

"**_AAHHHH!_**" Slamming his foot down on the brake, Murray is able to bring the van to a halt a few inches away from the figure.

"...ow!" Not expecting the sudden stop, Bentley's wheelchair went flying into the wall of the van, bring whatever equipment was stored on it, down upon poor Bentley. Pushing off the fallen boxes, Bentley wheels his chair around to yell Murray only to have his voice die in his throat when he see who they almost hit.

"Carmelita!" he shouts, "Murray, unlock the doors quickly." Hearing the lock click, Bentley rolls over to the side door and opens it up. "Inspector Fox, thank goodness you're alright. Get in here so we can get you out of this area."

"Bentley!? Murray!? What are the two of you doing?" asks Carmelita, still in shock from being almost run over.

"Well o'viously they risked their skins and freedom to rescue a 'eautiful creature such as yourself." Bobby's voice coming from behind her, finally done climbing down the fire escape. He begins pushing Carmelita to the open van, while continuing to grouse. "And while I can aphreciate the sentiment, they jus' made my jo' that much harder."

"And just who are ... GAH! What happened to your face?" Murray's face take on a look of disgust as Bobby enters into the light. Bentley wheels his chair back as Carmelita finally enters the van, with Booby coming right along inside.

Bobby address the two theivies, by first sticking his thumb toward his chest. "The name's _Bobby_ G. McGee." Next a finger pointing to his face, "My girlfriends did this." And as shouts of anger could be heard from the other end of the alley, Bobby slams the van door shut. "And those would 'e 'addies that want to kill our Insphector friend!"

The sound of a bullet impacting against the windsheild is enough to stop any further conversation. Muray throws the van into reverse, the wheels screaming as he races out of the alley and onto a large street.

And into the sights of the armored and armed truck/make-sift APC .

Bullets start pouring out from the machine gun emplacement on the top of the trailer and the armored vehicle starts roaring down the street to crush the van.

"DRIVE! DRIVE!" shout Bobby, as Murray throws the van back into drive and mashes down on the gas. The van takes off faster than a stock car, bullets trailing along behind it.

"Damnit, I really wasn't exphecting to sphend my Friday night in a car chase." sighs Bobby, looking out the back windows of the van.

"And we weren't expecting to be rescuing anyone else besides Inspector Fox." snaps Bentley, now franticly searching through the supplies he brought for anything that might slow down the enemy's vehicle. "Either start explaining why you were with Inspector Fox this night or be quiet and let Murray and I figure out how to lose that truck."

Booby opens his mout to reply, but is cut off by Carmelita. "He says he can get Sly back to us."

Bentley whips his head to stare at Carmelita. Then at Bobby. Then back to Carmelita. "Your kidding right?"

"Um... no, she is tellin' the truth, well a scram'led truth," answers Bobby, putting a hand on one of the walls of the van as Murray makes a sharp turn. "It is not me so much as it is my 'oss. He's the one who knows when that raccoon is, he's the one that found out a'out the hit on the lofely fox here, and he's the one that 'eat at phoker last night, landin' me 'a'ysittin' duty."

Bentley gives Bobby a skeptical look. "And how do we know you are telling the truth. Last time I checked, and I did do any extensive check, I still own the only working time machine." Bentley starts frowning as a new thought occurs. "Unless... your boss hasn't hired a pink mouse now, has he? One that is into robotics?"

*Snort* "No, ain't hire no mouse mechanic that is into building robots. He has his 'rother for that. As for whether I'm tellin' the truth, well you'd hafe to go on faith I guess. So, how a'out gittin' that truck out there on its side so Interphol here can make her arrest."

Bentley glares at Bobby for a little while longer, before turning back to look at the supplies.

"Um guys, the truck's gone," Murray calls out from the front. After having made several sharp turns down some of the narrower streets of Paris, the gang had exited onto a slightly busy road that cuts through heart of Paris without the truck following them.

"Well, I guess that solves the immediate problem," says Bentley, as he, Bobby and Carmelita look out through the rear windows. "So where would you like us to drop you off Carmelita. Your apartment, a block from Interpol HQ, near the ..."

Bentley's voice dies away as a steel-plated tractor-trailer come plowing out of an impossibly narrow alley, smashing through a blue volkswagon that was driving behind the van, before turning into the oncoming traffic lane to follow the van.

Mouths agape... the trio in the back of the van can only watch as the enemy's vehicle effortlessly plows it way through the Parisian traffic, neither slowing down or taking much damage from colliding with other cars. Murray sees the carnage from his side mirrors, and guns it, weaving past the few cars on his side of the road.

"... I think that truck is ignorin' some of Newton's, no wait, sum of the uniferses laws on phyiscal interactions," comments Bobby, as the shock wears off. Turning to look at the crippled turtle, "So, do you hafe anything that can stop that 'ehemoth?"

Gathering his wits about, Bentley turns back to the pile of supplies."Most of the things we brought with us were first aid supplies. Nothing against Inspector Fox's skills, but better sade than sorry. I did, however, bring along some low-powered explosives. While probably not strong enough to break through the armor, they should be able to damage the tires or even the engine block if we could get them to explode underneath the truck cab."

The sharp stutter of machine gun fire cuts in on Bentley's impromtu planning.

"Of course, before we can even think about disabling that vehicle, we need to get rid of its defense."

"Way ahead of you, turtle," interrupts Bobby. Turning to Carmelita, Booby inspects Ms. Fox's shock pistol for a few moments. "How well can you shoot with that hand cannon of yours girlie?"

Carmelita bristles at the name Bobby gives her, but answers, "I can usually hit what I am aiming at."

"Not good enough girlie. I need specifics, are you able to hit a target 80 meters away, moving at 70 kilometers an hour... Or are we going faster, hippo guy?" Boobby calls out to the front.

"We are pushing ninety kilometers and the name is 'The Murray'," Murray answers back, while still focusing on the road before him. He takes a left, trying to put a river between the two vehicles, but the truck just follows along the otherside of the river, with both machine gun emplacements firing as well some of the baddies in the trailer part of the truck.

"... Yes, I could make those shots. Why do you ask?" says Carmelita after a moment of thought.

Reaching into his back pocket, Bobby pulls out a couple of hypodermic needles filled with a glowing blue liquid. " 'ecause once I'm done shootin' my self uph with this craph, I'm goin' to 'e pullin' those gunners out of their seats. And I do 'elieve you phrefer arrests instead of 'odies." With that he shove one of the needles into his left wrist and presses down the plunger, grunting in pain.

Carmelita's and Bentley's eyes widen as Bobby makes quick work of the two needles, putting cap back over them before placing them back in his pocket. "You're a drug addict!" accuses Carmelita.

"Nophe," says Bobby, as he grabs the handle of the van door with his right hand. "I'm a phyiscist. Now watch me as I make this Uni_v_erse my _BITCH!" _He flings the door open, and as the air starts to swirls around his clenched, left hand. As he opens it, the bullets that were about to impact against he van's side stop in mid-air. He then closes his hand into a fist, crushing the bullets into smaller bits of metal before blasting them back at the truck in a shotgun like spray, pock-marking the armor, and forcing the machine gunners to duck, but other wise doing no damage.

"Now Ms. Fox," Bobby calls out to Inspector, " Let's see how well you can shoot." He clenches his left hand again, this time waiting for a veritable wind storm to circle it, before thrusting it out towards the truck. "PHULL!"

* * *

**(A/N) Well here is chapter two. Didn't get everything down that I wanted, but I thought I left my story alone for long enough. **

**Anyway, sorry I am late with putting this chapter up. It is May and I'm a Senior taking AP courses. I have lots of tests coming up. **

**Also, part of the lateness come fromthe fact I changed direction of this chapter mid-way through writing it. Originially, it was supposed to be a "boss" fight in the factory, but I could not think of a reasonable way for Bobby and Carmelita to get in there with out getting violently murdered. So I went with a car chase.**

**Love it. Hate it. Review it. Let me know what I can make better, what could be changed, and if someone knows how to write dialouge for Sly Cooper characters, please PM me. I do not feel that I am doing justice to those characters**


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